


Little Boy Blue

by paintings-of-frost (orphan_account)



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Child Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:37:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/paintings-of-frost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jack is found by Death years before the movie events. Death offers to make him a Shepherd of Death. His job will be to guide the spirits of deceased children to the "other life" and keep them from getting lost or stranded. Although sad that this is the only way he can speak to anyone, Jack accepts."</p><p>Fill from the kink meme, I'll update it whenever I update there.</p><p>Being reworked and rewritten!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting Death

He wasn't sure when it happened- it could have been months or years or decades after he was pulled from the ice, it ceased mattering as he continued- but he could remember the day perfectly. He could remember the surprise and the sudden elation at being seen- being acknowledged past a simple nod of the head in his direction- the fear and wonder at the proposition. He could still feel himself say yes. He could remember it all- and that was the hardest part because how would he ever explain those feelings and the way he was needed to the people who now mattered the most?

Maybe, he thought, just maybe he should start at the beginning.  
——

He was creating swirls of frost on the ground that melted seconds later, the warmth of the fast-approaching change of season too much for the delicate crystals, and watching children play in the slush left from the last snowfall of the season. It was too warm for him to join in, too warm for him to do much except get ready to follow the change of season back south. New children to play with, new storms to create and snowflakes to sprinkle along the ground. It was exciting, he was just _too warm_ to find the energy to celebrate it.

The sun was dipping across the horizon when he was made aware of a presence behind him. It was familiar. Like a tugging at his memory- something long buried, long forgotten and abandoned. When he turned to look at the presence, it should have became clear who it was. It proved to be another sense of confusion for the young spirit, having never seen this person before but feeling as if he should know who it was. And oh, who was it? How did they draw such a reaction from the memories he knew he should have?

The figure was cloaked. Cloaked in a comforting darkness, like a slice of the night sky fell to Earth and wrapped the white figure in a shroud of darkness. The voice, when it spoke- and it had spoken to him before, he was sure, but when? _When had he heard such a thing before?_ \- was neither male nor female. It was both soft and commanding, an air of finality layered upon the words spoken.

"Jack Frost, I have a proposition for you."

If he was startled at the words, he didn't show it. Well, not much. He felt his eyes widen slightly at being addressed. It felt strange- hearing his own name was a rarity for him. It spurred him into action, his limbs trying to find purchase to lift him from his spot on the ground. "What do you mean a proposition? Who are you? What makes you think I'll accept?"

The figure seemed to sigh. It wasn't a physical noise- then again, Jack wasn't sure if anything this thing had said so far was a physical noise. It seemed to him that the thing had shuddered and whined in protest, the sound coming from everywhere and yet nowhere at all. "I am Death, my child, and I wish for you to assist me in my practice-"

"You want me to _kill people_?" Jack interrupted, his eyes growing ever wider and shifting into position for a speedy get away. He would not kill. At least, not on purpose. His sudden storms had killed before- but they were accidents! He hadn't ever tried to kill things. Never, it was wrong.

The fig- sorry, Death- seemed to sigh again. From annoyance at being interrupted or from the thought of having to explain itself to this spirit, this _child_ , was anyone's guess. "Child, let me finish." The everywhere and nowhere voice commanded. It held no room for argument and the spirit felt his jaws clamp together to keep from speaking again. "I want you to help me take children to their destination. I want you to be a shepherd of souls."

Jack took a deep breath, eyes darting between the children who were still out- their mothers calling them indoors for supper and bed- and the cloaked figure who was still so familiar. So familiar and yet so new. The proposal was interesting. A shepherd for souls? The souls of the children who he so wished to talk to. The children who walked right through him- like he were nothing more than air. It was a way to talk to them- to really talk to them, not the perpetual pretending he'd grown accustomed to doing. Was it even possible for them to see him? Even as their souls left their bodies? What if he was still unseen? "Will they see me? Would this affect my job? I need to bring joy to them! They like the snow, Death, what if this makes them hate it? Hate me?"

"Dear child, you needn't worry. The children will be overjoyed to have a guide such as yourself. I only ask that you don't lead them astray." The voice sounded amused. Amused and eternally patient with the questions Jack threw at it. "They need someone who cares for them as much as you do to lead them. They need you, Jack Frost. All you need to do is accept my offer."

Jack thought about it for a moment more. He could be seen, but at what cost? He'd be seen by the spirits of dead children. He'd be taking dead _children_ \- children who deserved to be playing and loved by their parents and siblings. Children who would never grow up. But, he'd be helping them. He would be leading them to their spirit's final resting place. It seemed worth it. And maybe, that's what mattered the most?

Before he could think about it much more, the words seemed to slip through his lips of their own volition. "I'll do it."

And so the deal was made. Jack Frost would be the shepherd for the souls of children.

He'd find his first sheep within an hour of accepting his new position.


	2. The First Sheep

There was a silence- a stifling silence and horrible stillness- while it was processed. Time seemed to slow, to the point where he was sure he could reach out and tug on the fibers of time itself- if he could have brought himself to move.

Then it snapped back on itself and the world sped up and the silence was shattered by the small sounds of moving water and bugs humming to life. It shouldn't have surprised him- but it did, if only slightly- that the comforting presence of Death was gone when it returned to normal.

It was worse when the ringing started. It came from inside his head and he turned over and over to locate the source. The sound was like a trapped child, beating its tiny fists against the inside of his skull, urgently fighting for attention.

Then, in a moment of sudden clarity, the ringing dulled to a beat. A beat that went faster than his heartbeat but sounded to same to him. He knew. It was there he had to go.

He grabbed his staff in a moment of panic and ran. He ran and called the wind, forcing himself to go faster- faster than he'd gone before. Fast enough for the air to whip his hair across his cheeks and sting- and he knew he was running out of time.

He needed to get there. And he needed to get there _now_.

And so he sped even faster. He would make it, this he promised the child who needed him.

——

He kept his promise, arriving within ten minutes of the initial ringing. The house- if you could call it that- was small and silent. The family was gathered into a single room, around the bed of a girl who looked to be about five- her strawberry blonde curls lying limp against her forehead and hazel eyes half lidded against her pain. The room was dimly lit- a few scattered candles around the room giving off various degrees of light- and still. It was as if no one dared to breathe or to even think.

He sank down next to the bed and took the girl's small, _warm_ hand into his own frozen one. The girl shivered at the contact. It didn't go unnoticed. Neither did the drop in temperature of the room, or the increase in her fever and change of skin tone.

It lasted only minutes, but her death felt like hours to him. The slowing of her pulse and cooling of her skin felt like a blade in his back, dragging slowly and numbing him. Maybe, maybe he was feeling her death. Was this what dying felt like, he wondered.

And then, it stopped. He stood and lifted the tiny hand of her spirit from her body, lightly pulling her from the world of the living. When she was standing beside her bed, her hand held tightly in his and her big eyes inquiring as to what was going on, he allowed himself to laugh. "Hey, kiddo."

She looked confused for a moment before she brightened and flashed him a smile. "Hi! I'm Sarah! Who are you, mister? What's going on? Who are these people?"

"Well, Sarah, I'm Jack Frost. I'm here to lead you on a little adventure." He said with a grin, tilting his head. He glanced at her family and shook his head. "No one, kiddo. Let's get going."

At her nod, Jack started out the way he'd come. He'd lead her away as fast as he could.

He only looked back once- at the sound of an anguished cry from the small girl's mother.

He never made that mistake again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was fun! There's going to be a few more with Sarah so we see the basics of how his job works.
> 
> I figure it's worth mentioning that this part is set in the early 1800s. Maybe a little less than a century after Jack died. Sarah was a popular name then, so that's what I decided on.


	3. What Sarah Said

Leaving the house was a weight lifted from his shoulders, the cool night air soothed his weariness and put an extra spring in his step. The weight of the small girl's hand in his was surreal, knowing she was dead made it worse. Once out of the room, the room full of sadness and death and the opposite of everything Jack _knew_ he stood for, he let out a small sigh of relief and flashed Sarah a grin. He had to bite back his joyful laughter at the bright grin she sent him- _she was dead. She should be smiling at her parents and siblings and friends, not him._

"Now, Sarah, do you feel any tug toward anywhere?" He asked- almost hesitantly, cutting off the small girl's chatter. She reminded him of someone. Someone he knew was important- but the feeling disappeared as quickly as it had come and he shrugged it off. It would come back eventually. At the small pause and answer in the negative, Jack sighed. "Guess finding this place is going to be hard then." The quizzical look from the girl with curls- curls that seemed to reflect every stray beam of light that hit them when she moved- he waved his hand and grinned. "It's unimportant. We're gonna go on a little adventure, okay? Tell me more about yourself so I can get to know you."

Sarah brightened at the idea and threw him a smile that rivaled the sun with both warmth and intensity. "Okay, mister!" With a small laugh and a 'My name is Jack, Sarah' they started off in a seemingly random direction- Jack grabbing his staff as they went. "My daddy calls me his angel and my mommy likes to braid my hair even though it always comes out before bed time. I have a baby brother whose name is Lawrence and he's got the bluest eyes ever!" She paused and giggled happily, practically skipping alongside Jack.

"There's this clearing near my house that looks so pretty in the winter- it snows and everything looks so fluffy and sparkly and it's my favorite. Even though it has these big pink flowers every spring.

"Mommy and daddy talked really quiet whenever they saw me for a few days before you showed up," She furrowed her brows, looking up at Jack with a curious expression- full of thought and wonder. "I don't know why though."

Jack's breath caught in his throat and he forced back a small gasp. He wouldn't scare the girl. There was no use in that. "Don't worry about it, kiddo," He said, masking his emotions with the cheer he'd had earlier. "I'm sure it was a coincidence."

"Yeah!" The girl agreed cheerfully and hopped a few times as they walked. "When are we going back to mommy and daddy? I don't think they want me out this late."

"Sarah," Jack looked down at the girl- the girl who seemed so full of life, her curls bouncing as she bobbed along beside him and her eyes bright and lively. The same girl who'd looked so ashen and pale on the bed surrounded by those she loved as well as himself, the intruder who'd come to take away something precious- and he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth.

"Sarah, I was given permission to have you on this adventure for as long as it takes to get the treasure." He announced, eyes twinkling with joy. 

And he'd find the treasure, he promised that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from a song by Death Cab for Cutie that has nothing to do with this story except a character who shares the name. I used it simply because it fit the theme of this chapter.


	4. Land of Wonder

When Sarah had finally quieted down and grown tired of walking, Jack lifted her onto his shoulders and continued. He strayed from the path, if only for a moment because the ringing in his head increased and he had to pick up the soul of a little boy- who was less trusting of Jack than Sarah had been. He'd later learn the eight-year-old's name was Cole and that he knew he was dying, the pain he'd suffered until his death could only be caused by that. He died in his sleep.

With the two children, he wandered, rousing Sarah from her sleep only to introduce her to Cole and to set her down so he could stretch. The nights were growing shorter, but he felt less exhausted as he walked. It must have been because he was working for Death. It explained the small amount of colour returning to his joints and the lack of ice on his lashes as well. And he thanked Death quietly for the opportunity.  
____________

After weeks of walking and gathering souls, His skull started ringing again. But it was different. It felt like a flutter against the bone. Like a gentle hand leading him to where he needed to go and then... there was light. The older children ran to it with no qualms, eager to see what adventures awaited at the other side. Cole paused before he did, lifting a hand and offering a rare smile before fading away.

Sarah simply held onto his pants, her eyes wide and unblinking. She was shaking- from excitement as well as fear. And he gently took her hand in his. "Mister Jack, it looks like the house where I used to play." And that was odd, maybe it seemed different to everyone. All he saw was a lake. A lake of so many colors and so much brightness he could only just glance its way.

"Does it?"

The girl mhm'd and took a small step forward, dragging Jack along with her. So he kept his eyes open and watched. The light was warm, warmer than he'd felt in a long time. And the hand in his felt warm too. A healthy warmth that spread from her fingertips to his skin. And the light was changing colour, dancing along his skin as they walked, leaving a prism of colours to bounce along the edges of his sight. And then...

Then there was nothing and Jack was alone except for a figure at the edge of his vision. A figure shrouded in blackness with a spot of white staring out at him. There was a nod of approval and then the whisper of 'Good job, Jack' and then there was only a spot of forest where the figure had been. And the ringing began again.  
______

And Jack paused to look at his friends, his fingers itching to grab his staff and take him where he needed to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow so this was late but writer's block is a thing that exists. So. The next part is going to be an intermission of sorts, where we see the reactions from the other guardians.
> 
> Then there'll be another couple parts where we see Jack interact with little kids and then an epilogue probably.
> 
> No guarantees on when I'll get them done though.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope my characterization isn't too far off, but I'm working with headcanons as well as off of memory from the movie.
> 
> The actual job will be described more in the next parts.


End file.
